


all that glitters is not gold

by vampyrekat



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: F/M, happy valentine's day, someday i will post the rest of this au but today ain't that day, this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampyrekat/pseuds/vampyrekat
Summary: Gleb paused in surprise, fingers tracing over where she'd spelled out his name in block Cyrillic letters across the front. “Dmitry’s using you to send notes, now?”“Vlad said I should practice my handwriting,” she said noncommittally, and felt herself blush a little. “And itisValentine’s Day.”A drabble from my modern AU, for Valentine's Day.





	all that glitters is not gold

**Author's Note:**

> Look. I know I should post the modern AU before posting semi-canon takes on it. I hear you. But consider: it's Valentine's Day, and I wanted some fluff.
> 
> A quick summary: Anastasia is the heir to a Russian crime family. Gleb Vaganov might work for another, and he _might_ have been sent to kill the pretender, although he seems to be in no hurry to do so. Thus far, he's charmed Vlad, reached a truce with Dmitry, and annoyed Anya throughout her lessons.

_Two down, one to go._ Anya held the last envelope thoughtfully, although it was probably too late for second guessing herself. She’d already made the Valentine and carefully copied some Russian poetry from a book into it. Knowing Gleb, he'd find it if she tried to hide it, and make fun of her for the attempt. Besides, she'd made valentines for Dmitry and Vlad with similar messages in them; there was no reason to be nervous about Gleb. After all, she was still half-convinced he was going to try and kill her. A little poetry wasn't going to change that.

This was just one-upping him at his game of friendship.

On that cheery note, she walked into the orchestra seating of the Yusupov Theater and dropped the envelope into the open book on Gleb’s lap. He jumped slightly and looked up at her, and Anya wondered bitterly if he knew how picturesquely cute he looked, with his book and glasses and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He _always_ looked studious and polite, which was how he'd won Vlad over; he gave her a warm smile, which was how he was trying to win her over. Anya wanted to snatch the envelope back before he could think it was working.

Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, nodding to the envelope, and he picked it up cautiously, examining it from all sides. Anya noted with a thrill that the seal was holding, thwarting his attempts to figure out what was inside. He paused in surprise, fingers tracing over where she'd spelled out his name in block Cyrillic letters across the front.

“Dmitry’s using you to send notes, now?”

“Vlad said I should practice my handwriting,” she said noncommittally, and the blush creeping up her neck. Valentines had been a terrible idea, she thought, an added hurriedly, “And it _is_ Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah, another capitalist holiday.” He grinned at her and Anya reluctantly smiled back. “Some Russian you’re turning out to be.”

She'd only made them to practice her handwriting and to surprise her friends - well, her friends _and Gleb_ - and if she thought any more about her reasons she was going to snatch the envelope from his hands and burn it.

“I’ll bring you a bottle of vodka, next time,” she said dryly. “Just _open it_.”

He looked at her suspiciously for a half moment before pulling out pocket knife and slicing it open. Anya felt her straight face crack, but he didn't notice before he pulled the letter out. A cloud of glitter emerged with it - silver, red, pink, and a few flecks of blue that had gotten mixed in. It immediately covered Gleb’s face, shirt, and pants, standing out vividly against the black fabric, and Anya immediately laughed. Gleb looked up at her and she nearly doubled over laughing at the look of betrayal in his eyes. “It suits you,” she managed, and the hurt look he gave her made her laugh harder.

“You’re too kind, _cолнышко_ ,” he said darkly, and carefully set the letter and his now-glittery book aside. Anya shook her head slightly - the nickname was something he’d adopted lately, and she’d tried to ignore - and laughed all over again when he shook his head with a flash of glitter. He gave her a wry look. “I would've appreciated the vodka more.”

“Dmitry’s valentine had twice as much,” she cautioned him, and Gleb finally broke and laughed as well.

“So this was mercy," he mused, and lunged forward, wrapping an arm around her waist and yanking her down into his lap. Anya shrieked and almost punched him in the nose on instinct, but Gleb managed to trap her arms and pulled her close, tucking her against his glitter-covered sweater. Anya turned, ready to tell him off, and Gleb buried his face into her shoulder and almost nuzzled against the fabric, doubtless trying to get the glitter off. Anya fought down a shiver and shoved at him ineffectually, but the damage was done.

“ _Gleb._ ” She aimed for disappointed and landed somewhere around huffy - and he laughed, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

“I’m saying ‘thank you’,” he informed her firmly, and she groaned.

“You could’ve done that without --” She broke off and he laughed.

“Without what, Anya?’ He grinned brightly and loosened his hold just enough to brush glitter off the shoulder of his sweater and onto her. “Covering you in glitter? I’ve only just learned it’s a way to express -” He paused, looking thoughtful. “- what was it you were trying to express?” He reached for the note and she grabbed his wrist, suddenly sure hearing him read the poem she'd picked would be worse than any amount of teasing.

“Hatred,” she supplied instead. Gleb raised an eyebrow and she, for lack of a better escape, dropped her head against his chest so he couldn't meet her eyes. Gleb laughed and Anya felt it vibrate through his chest and - it was all too close, too much contact. She hadn't been this close to anyone in years, and Gleb tightened his arms around her, the comfortable quiet moment stretching for an almost-uncomfortable length of time. Anya wondered if he was as uneasy with the silence as she was, but he seemed content to hold on to her waist and Anya was almost content to let him; he was warm and solid and she shouldn't be shocked by that. They'd been close before, but that had been for a lesson, for waltzing. She’d tried to pretend ignorance to step on him and he’d yanked her closer and hissed,  _I’m not Dmitry_. And that was the crux of it - Gleb wasn’t Dmitry, wasn’t safe, and wasn’t here to help her. She'd almost forgotten, in the midst of it all, that they weren't friends.

She'd almost wished, in the midst of it all, that they  _were_.

Gleb must’ve felt her stiffen, because he let go easily enough when she shoved against his chest, his smile fading despite the humor - and something else, something deeper - in his eyes. Anya stood quickly, brushing off as much of the glitter as she could.

"Hatred," he repeated, and smiled politely. “I didn’t expect anything else.” He could've passed for joking, but Anya knew him well enough to pick out the undercurrent of seriousness. She smiled weakly.

“I should get back to my studies.” Her Romanov studies, to prove she was the woman she pretended to be - could very well be - and Gleb nodded and gestured to the stage with a polite smile. They had done this more and more lately, shifting from friends to polite strangers and back again, and Anya wondered if it bothered him before remembering she didn't care. He watched her with a chillingly polite expression.

“Don’t let me keep you.”

It felt a little bit like running away when she returned to her books, and the red glitter on her cheek looked a little like blood when she saw it in the mirror later.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to message me on [tumblr](http://vampyrekatwrites.tumblr.com/)!


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